


The Journey Home

by jaydickery



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, Family Dynamics, M/M, Past Koriand'r/Dick Grayson, Past Roy Harper/Dick Grayson - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydickery/pseuds/jaydickery
Summary: A mission takes Red Hood and the Outlaws to Gotham where Jason is forced to grapple with old feelings of resentment toward his family, and finds that other feelings outlast everything, even death.





	1. Chapter 1

“Well that was a complete waste of time. And we totally reek.”

Kory calmly and continuously poked at the keyhole of their three bedroom basement apartment until Jason took the key from her and opened the door himself. The Outlaws had just returned from one of their less than fruitful leads that had unfortunately led them into the sewers.

“Some more than others,” Jason replied with a smirk, “And blame yourself, Roy. It was your shitty sources that led us down there on a wild goose chase.”

“Hey, Waylon is my man, and he wouldn’t get it wrong on purpose,” Roy grumbled, “maybe they knew we were coming.”

“I doubt three guys and a couple of thugs could clear out a shipment of guns that huge in the amount of time that it’s taken us to figure them out. No, we were way off. It was too narrow down there to store anything. We’re back to square one,” Jason pulled his shirt over his head, “and I need a shower. So if you’ll excuse me…”

“No way, I’m going first,” Roy demanded, “you said it yourself, I need one more than you do.”

They were interrupted by the sound of water running. Kory had clearly taken advantage of their squabbling.

“Damn sneaky Tamaraneans,” Jason took a whiff of himself and winced, “I knew we should have sprung for multiple bathrooms.”

“In this city? Even your part-time crime-lording wouldn’t cover that.” Roy sat on the floor, not wanting to further dirty their not so great furniture.

“Why don’t you try tapping the ol’ rich mentor fortune?” Jason asked with a snicker, sitting down across from him.

“Why don’t you?” Roy fired back.

Kory strolled past to them in a robe and ducked into a closet, returning with a mop and bucket. She hastily filled the bucket with water and soap, and serenely began poking her two roommates with the wet, stringy mop bottom.

“Hey!” Roy complained.

“I am trying to clean the floor. Perhaps you two should make use of the shower, or the sink at least.” she suggested, continuing to mop them.

Jason and Roy scrambled to their feet.

“Me next!” Roy shouted, running to the bathroom and slamming the door. A moment later he opened it a crack, “Unless you want to share, Jaybird.”

Jason scoffed at him, “You’re not my type.”

Roy grinned and locked the door.

Jason turned his attention to Kory, who was still mopping in her robe, humming happily.

“So what do we do from here?” he asked plainly.

“I am not sure,” she confessed, “but it is clear that we have been outmaneuvered.”

Jason opened the laptop on their kitchen counter and pulled up their joint file on the Marrakech case. Three brothers, all weapons dealers. Rarely in America. But they had come with a huge number of assault rifles, and as much as Jason loved a good Kalashnikov himself, he didn’t relish the idea of thousands being emptied onto the streets. 

He combed through their notes and found nothing new. They had hit a road block.

“Damn. I have no fucking clue what to do with this.”

“Perhaps we are overthinking it,” Kory mused, dumping the soapy water down the drain in the sink, “if you were looking to sell a large amount of weapons at once, where would you go?”

The answer appeared to Jason so quickly it almost gave him whiplash. He barked a laugh.

“Kory, you’re a genius. If they’re looking for big money for the stash, they’ll need to go to an organized crime boss. Someone who controls a huge operation. Hell, I hit an arms deal between a group of terrorists and Black Mask back in the day. And it was a shipment pretty damn close to this size. Guns. Bombs. Kryptonite.”

Jason remembered those days with a mixture of feelings. Shooting a bazooka through a window at Black Mask had certainly been fulfilling. But other moments weren’t so easily revisited. Revealing to Bruce that he was the Red Hood. Exploding a ship when Batman and Nightwing were on it. Demanding Bruce kill the Joker or Jason himself.

“You mean to suggest this ‘Black Mask’ may be the buyer?”

“Him? Maybe,” Jason pondered, “but if not him, the Penguin. Maroni. Falcone. Someone…someone in Gotham.”

“So we must go to Gotham?”

Jason couldn’t think of an idea that would have appealed to him less, but it seemed their best option.

“I guess so.”

“We’re going to Gotham?” Roy piped in, the bathroom door flying open. A rush of steam followed him. He hadn’t bothered with clothes or a towel, leaning casually in the doorway.

Jason turned his head immediately to Kory, refusing to look at him. She addressed him as though nothing was amiss. 

“Jason believes that the buyer for these Marrakech dealers can be found there.”

“You sure we should be going there, Jaybird? I heard that place is bat-infested.” Roy chuckled at his own stupid joke.

“It’s a big city; we can avoid him.” Jason replied simply, hardly believing it himself, “and can you please put some clothes on? Nobody wants to see that.”

“Plenty of people have wanted to see it, actually,” Roy argued, “scores, even.”

“Only when jacked up on heroin or sex pollen.” Jason said meanly, hitting below the belt.

Roy flipped him the bird, but otherwise let it slide, “Man, this should be interesting.” Addressing Kory, “We driving or flying?”

“Driving,” Jason said immediately, “it’s only nine hours, and cheaper.”

“Not it I do the flying.” Kory said thoughtfully.

“And driving vastly diminishes your ability to pick up hot stewardesses.” Roy countered.

“As much as I appreciate you showing an interest in my love life,” Jason snapped, “don’t.”

The Outlaws exchanged a glance.

“That sounded better in your head, didn’t it?” Roy asked.

“Yes; fuck you, I’m taking a shower. There’d better be some hot water left”

Roy and Kory smiled at each other, holding back laughter.

“Dinner, Kor? I’ll make chili.”

“Of course. Your cooking is always a fascinating experience.”

“Ha! You underestimate me. This is one of the only things Ollie taught me to do.” Roy said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jason, meanwhile, was considering drown himself in the cold water. He didn’t want to go to Gotham. The last time he was in Gotham, it had ended with a huge confrontation between himself and Batman over the Joker. He’d felt he’d made the right decision in leaving; all of his fellow bat-vigilantes hated him, and he wasn’t looking for a family reunion. He’d found a new family, one that better understood and respected him.

But Gotham was their best lead. And he was from Crime Alley. All he’d have to do is ask around his old friends and neighbors. A shipment like the one they were pursuing would make noise in Gotham. If there was nothing, he’d know immediately that they were on the wrong track, and they could leave. Preferably before running into a bat; black, blue, red or otherwise.


	2. Chapter 2

A road trip to Gotham would require the Outlaws to take Roy’s clunker of an open-top jeep. Jason was grateful it was summer, otherwise they may have frozen to death. Well, him and Roy at least. Kory was always warm.

As they piled in Roy joked about how far he had fallen, recalling a story he had told them about the car he’d received for his sixteenth birthday. He’d crashed it with a couple friends after a [joyride](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8592253) gone awry.

“Man, those were the days,” Roy reminisced sarcastically, “Ollie always trying to buy my affection. You know how much nice shit I had before I sold it all for heroin?”

Jason and Kory said nothing. It was a bit of an unspoken rule between them. Roy rarely spoke freely about his days as an addict, so when he mentioned it, they refrained from commenting. They felt that, more often than not, Roy just needed a soundboard when he mentioned those days.

“Oh, well.” Roy continued, speaking more to himself than to them, “That’s what happens when you’re an addict. You lose everything. Your things, your family, your friends. Everything.”

Roy looked sad now, and Jason wondered for the millionth time if going back to Gotham was a bad idea. He had his own set of terrible memories about the place, but he had a feeling that Gotham reminded Roy of his friendship with Dick. They had been thick as thieves as kids, and Jason had even learned that Dick had been the one to drag Roy to rehab the final time. Roy, in a rare moment of vulnerability, had explained to Jason and Kory that Dick had driven him to _New Beginnings,_ an expensive and secluded treatment center in Central City. The place was gorgeous, deep in the woods, and quiet. Dick had understood the need to get to get him away from Star City and Ollie, but had wanted him close enough to a friend (Wally, in this case) to keep an eye on him and to make sure he saw it through. Not that he had been friends with Wally at this point; his closest friendships had all crumbled by the time he finally went to rehab. But Dick was confident that Wally would watch over him, if not for Roy, than for his sake.

Roy remembered begging Dick in the car not to leave him. He promised he’d cut it cold turkey; he promised he’d stay in his apartment until he was clean, but Dick had heard all these promises and more before. Dick ordered him out of the car and told him that if he didn’t go to rehab, Dick would take him to jail and never speak to him again.

Roy folded. Dick gave him a hug and promised everything was going to be alright. That he would be there when Roy got out. He promised.

He lied. He hadn’t been there. Not when Roy earned his first phone call two weeks later, nor when he earned a visit a month after that. Roy had been forced to call Ollie, who he asked to find Dick for him. Ollie, who had visited him and told him that he _couldn’t_ find Dick; that nobody had seen him in weeks; that Batman had slammed the door in his face when he asked where his son was. 

Roy completed his program. He had never been more proud of himself, and he missed Dick with a profound ache, almost as if he were missing a limb. Dick, who had been the only person who refused to give up on him. Dick, whom he had mistreated more than anyone. Roy owed him a huge apology, and more. Ollie picked him up and drove him back to his apartment in Star City. Roy had peppered him with questions about Dick the entire drive; Ollie had few answers. He said that Nightwing had kept a very low profile the past few months. He hadn’t been seen in Gotham in some time. Ollie had asked his closest friends, Wally West and Donna Troy, where he could be found. They both claimed ignorance. Ollie had tracked down Batman as Green Arrow; Batman refused to talk. 

But it took Roy’s return to his apartment to realize that Dick didn’t want to be found; not by him, not ever. He’d left a brief note asking Roy not to look for him, and telling him that their friendship was over.

Roy had respected his wishes, and they didn’t see each other for a good year. When they finally met again, it was by accident, both fighting an alien invasion alongside the JLA. When it was over, they both left to go home without a word to each other.

Jason knew he was missing a couple key parts to this story. First, concerning Dick’s abandonment of Roy. Kory and Jason had both had trouble believing that sqeaky-clean Dick Grayson had ghosted his best friend, who was finally getting clean and living a better life. Roy had answered that one…sort of. He simply said that Dick had a very good reason for not ever wanting to see him again. He never clarified; he said that they wouldn’t look at him the same if they knew. Jason disagreed; he had very little room to judge anyone, but he did notice that when Roy spoke about Dick leaving him, he couldn't keep the shame from his face. Jason knew that Roy must have done something pretty bad to his friend, and it was clearly still eating him up.

The second missing piece was about Roy and Dick’s relationship at the time. Were they friends? Lovers? Were they dating? Jason knew Roy and Dick had _had_ a relationship at some point, but he didn’t understand the particulars, or the timeline. He didn’t know if they had just slept together a couple of times, or if they had been serious. Dick had never really been the type to sleep around randomly, but it seemed equally far-fetched to believe he would abandon his long-term boyfriend.

In any case, it wasn’t his business. He wasn’t the kind of friend to poke and pry; he didn't need to know everything about Roy, and Roy certainly didn't need to know everything about him. Although he would never admit it out loud, he really cherished the friendship between the three of them. They were all far from perfect, but they accepted each other as they were. There wasn't a need for spilling all secrets, but they were comfortable opening up to each other. Jason had never really had friends. He was somewhat glad that he finally did. They had helped him heal in many ways, and he felt that he had helped them too.

“Yo, Jaybird?” Roy called, “You still with us? Want to pull up some directions?”

“Yeah,” Jason replied, pulling away from his thoughts, “sure.”

Roy turned on the radio and zoomed off. Kory stretched across the back seat, clearly looking to take a nap. Jason decided that now was a good a time as any to address Roy.

“You okay with going to Gotham?” he asked nervously.

“Sure,” Roy replied, hands tightening on the wheel almost imperceptibly “it’s our best bet. Maybe I’ll see Croc again.”

He didn't elaborate. Jason dropped the subject. And prayed that when they finally made it to Gotham, they wouldn’t run into Dick Grayson.


	3. Chapter 3

It was dark by the time they arrived. Kory had slept for the majority of the ride, for which Jason was exceedingly grateful. He loved the girl, but her driving made him think fondly of his coffin days.

They arrived at a Motel 6 on the outskirts of the Narrows, and booked a two bedroom suite as their base of operations. It was pretty pathetic in Jason’s opinion, but it had been a last minute trip and they weren’t best prepared. If they needed to stay longer than a week or two they could always find a shitty apartment to use.

“How should we do this?” Jason asked his partners, “Should we patrol tonight, or get some rest?”

“I’ll feel wide awake after some coffee and some food.” Roy offered. “And if we go out early we can do a quick preliminary sweep and follow up tomorrow.”

Kory was quick to agree, being more rested than either of them. They made their way to a nearby diner that looked like it belonged in the 50s. Not only because of the old school decor and jukebox, but also because it looked like none of the furnishings had been since updated.

These were the parts of Gotham that Jason liked the most. The truth of the city. Because the fact was that before the shiny, bright Waynes arrived in Gotham City, it mostly looked like this. Dirty and decrepit. Which wasn’t exactly a gorgeous place to live, but at least people could afford to live there. It didn't exactly surprise Jason that his father had had to sell drugs and work for Two-Face to get by. The average price of a one-bedroom apartment in Gotham City was around $1600. Jason’s family had rented a room in a dilapidated house, and they still had to come up with $800 a month. It was close to impossible, especially when they had a small child to care for.

This was the side of Gotham that Bruce and Batman would never truly understand. The problem with Bruce was that he never looked past himself, his pain. He saw all criminals the same way; they were all analogues of Joe Chill, the man who had killed his parents for little more than a pearl necklace. But Jason knew first hand it was never that simple.

There were no unskilled jobs in Gotham, and organized crime ruled the city. It was the only way for poor people to feed their families. They didn't have the option to go to school, go to college, and get a job. They couldn't move away from Gotham and find somewhere more affordable; they had been here for years, and relied on public transportation to get around. Their family grocers and cheap diners were replaced with sparkling new corporate grocery stores and five-star restaurants. Their crumbling apartment buildings were torn down after they were priced out, and replaced with twenty floors worth of condos.

Where were they supposed to go? What were they supposed to do? Jason’s parents had been, at the time, at a loss. After a surprise pregnancy, they had dropped out of high school to raise him. They were too old to enter the glitzy restaurants as servers. They couldn't afford schooling, and they were too poor to be approved for a loan. Jason’s father, with a felony on his record, was lucky to even be allowed to live in an apartment with his wife.

So they did what they had to. Willis Todd began selling heroin on the streets, and was noticed enough to be recruited by Two-Face. When they were hit with the eviction notice, Willis started using, seeing no way out. They squeezed into a apartment on Y Street with friends, and tried to take up as little space as possible. Willis’ luck ran out after shooting a client following a drug deal gone bad, and he was sentenced to thirty years in Blackgate. Two-Face, having learned that one of his lieutenants had killed a customer, and been skimming his product, paid his cellmate to shank him. Willis died in prison.

His wife, Catherine, had also become a user. She had had such a bright future before meeting Willis. The top of her class in private school, caring toward all who knew her. But she met and got pregnant with Willis’ baby. Her parents kicked her out. She had to drop out of school to raise her son. And now her husband, the breadwinner of the family, was gone for good. The pressure of no money, no food, and no way to raise her child become too much. She overdosed.

So Jason was left on his own. He bounced between neighbors, his parents’ friends, and the streets. He stole whatever he could. Just food, at first. Then he began stealing things he knew he could sell; medical supplies and pharmaceuticals, for instance, and tires. Until one fateful night, when he was caught in the act and whisked away to a better life.

Jason remembered his first night at Wayne Manor. He had never been anywhere so warm and comforting before. He ate so much he thought he’d burst. He slept on the floor that night, unable to adjust to the fluffy pillows and heavy blankets. 

Kory slid into the hideous vinyl seating booth across from her friends, who were exchanging annoyed looks at each other as they squeezed in on the same side. She grabbed a menu and searched for something she recognized.

Kory had lived on Earth long enough to know the humans’ favorite types of food, but had been cautious about trying those outside of her comfort zone after a truly abhorrent experience with Jason’s favorite food, which had been called a ‘chili dog.”

Kory always regarded Jason with a bit more suspicious after that awful day and night of food poisoning, while he had sworn up and down that it was a fluke, and that most chili dogs were worthy of the gods.

Either way, she wasn't looking to revisit them, or the food poisoning, any time soon.

“I’ll have a burger.” She told the cranky waitress who had approached without greeting them.

“Cooked?”

“Yes.”

The waitress stared at her, “How do you want it cooked?”

Kory looked at Jason in confusion, “Rare.” He provided.

“For you, then?”

Jason glanced at the menu, and motioned for Roy to order, “Pancakes.” He said plainly, “And coffee for all of us.”

The waitress looked toward Jason again.

“I want a Reuben, side of fries. And some honey.”

She noted it on her pad, and walked away.

“You know that fries and honey are disgusting together, right?” Roy questioned.

“You know that _you’re_ disgusting, right?” Jason said, annoyed, “And fries and honey are the perfect combination. Back me up, Kory?”

Kory nodded, “Indeed. When Jason introduced me to it, I thought it was strange as well. Humans are so creative in combining food! But I was wrong; it is delicious and wonderful!”

Roy, outnumbered, just shook his head in disappointment.

The waitress returned with coffee. Roy dumped half the sugar packets in his mug before pouring anything in it. Jason gave him a disgusted look and sipped his own coffee black.

“What’s our plan of attack here, Jaybird?” Roy asked, “You know this city better than Kory or I.”

Jason thought for a minute, “I’m not sure there is a plan, other than knock some heads until somebody talks.”

“Where can we find these characters you mentioned earlier?” Kory inquired, “Those you believe may be the buyers?”

Jason took another sip of coffee. Why did the grodiest diners always have the best coffee?

“We can’t hit any of them head on without a serious fire fight on our hands,” he said, “the best approach would be to bust up a score and start interrogating their lackeys. So maybe we just do a couple laps and see if anything’s happening. We need to hit the Narrows and Amusement Mile the hardest. Those are where Black Mask operates, and he’s most likely to be the buyer.”

“What makes you say that?” Roy replied, adding more sugar to his coffee.

“Just a hunch really. But Maroni and Falcone tend to deal more in drugs. Black Mask is the big name in the arms trade in Gotham.”

Their food arrived in all its greasy glory. Kory dug into her burger right away, giving a pleased hum when she noticed it was cooked just how she liked it.

“What about avoiding your…uhhh…family?” Roy asked sheepishly.

Jason shot him a look, “What about them? We just need to keep a low profile. No reason we shouldn’t be able to avoid them. Batman and Robin are around, but Nightwing’s in Bludhaven and Red Robin is somewhere with the Teen Titans. So it should be pretty bat-free.”

“And if we do run into Batman and Robin?” Kory looked up at him, “What will we do then?”

Jason’s hand clenched into a fist, “Then I’ll handle it.”

By the time the Outlaws had finished their meals, it was late enough to begin. Jason strapped on his thigh holsters, feeling apprehensive. It had been a long time since he had been in Gotham, and they hadn't exactly held him a welcoming parade the last time he was here. He slid his two favorite Glocks into place. This was a recon mission, but Jason liked to be prepared, and he wasn't afraid to dole out justice to good old fashioned way, Bat or no Bat. 

His stomach clenched a bit thinking about running into Batman on patrol. How should he play it? Warn the man to stay out of his way? Fight? Ask for a truce? Truthfully, Jason didn't want to fight Batman. He was still angry, but he had accepted that fighting Bruce wouldn't make a difference. They were both too set in their ways. Jason still hadn't forgiven him for letting the Joker live, and he wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to. He was still more than willing to put a bullet in the clown’s head if he dared cross his path. Though, perhaps, that wouldn't be the best move, if he was trying to avoid Bat-attention. 

It hardly mattered. Jason wasn't a plan-it-out kind of guy. He was going to do what he did best; leap into the fray and hope to get out alive. Maybe he could make a mutual arrangement with the Bats. He didn't want Bruce as an enemy, but he sure as hell didn't need him as a friend.

Jason sent Roy and Kory to the Narrows, a much larger area than Amusement Mile, which he was confident he could cover on his own. It was also nearby Crime Alley, a place Jason sometimes liked to revisit for his own reasons. He wouldn't say he was sentimental, but Crime Alley was all he had known as a kid. From the dumpy apartment on Y Street, to the nights he slept under the awning outside his parents favorite Italian restaurant. He hadn’t been to Gotham in a long time; he felt he at least owed his childhood home a quick visit.

Life had changed so much when he had moved to Wayne Manor. He almost hadn’t known how to handle it. Three meals a day. A warm bed that was twice as large as it needed to be. Fluffy pillows. Clean clothes. And quiet. There had been so much quiet. Not the foreboding, fearful quiet Jason had been accustomed to, the kind of quiet that proceeded a violent act; or the terrified silence of the street when the cops showed up to bully them. No, this quiet was almost comforting, peaceful. It was safe and warm, making up for the chill and loneliness the manor was susceptible to. It was the kind of quiet that let Jason spend an entire day just reading a book. No one to bother him. No one to ask him for anything. No one to want to fight him. This was peace and quiet he could get use to.

They had agreed to meet back in an hour. So far Jason had busted a couple drug deals and learned absolutely nothing. He stretched his back on a rooftop overlooking the carnival that came to Gotham three times a year. Giving a pleased groan, he looked over the next couple rooftops. A couple more blocks, and he’ll have covered the whole area. He glanced at his watch; it had been nearly forty minutes.

He leapt over the next rooftop and heard some groaning in the alley below. What he saw stopped him cold; a group of gang members zip tied and barely conscious. Someone had been here.

He wasn't going to wait around and find out; but unfortunately, they had found him first.


	4. Chapter 4

“What the _hell_ are you doing here, Red Hood?” Came a hard and familiar voice.

Jason turned slowly, glad the hood was hiding his face. Of course it was Nightwing, in all his fingerstriped glory. Jason’s stomach turned uncomfortably; he ignored it.

“Came here to murder you,” Jason said sarcastically. He immediately regretted it; that would have been funnier if he hadn’t actually made an attempt or two in the past, “that was a joke.”

Nightwing glared at him in a way that Jason knew would make his Bat-dad proud of him, “I won’t ask again.” His escrima sticks were at the ready, and his body was tense; he looked about ready to pounce.

“Relax, Goldie, I’m not here to fight.” Jason lifted his hands in surrender, “I’m following up on a case.”

“You’re working a case?” Nightwing asked doubtfully, “Are you sure you’re not here to chop off a few more gang members’ heads?”

“I’d never do that again,” Jason sneered, “the mess factor far outweighed the dramatic effect it had. I just stick to a good old bullet in the head; cleaner, and still gets my point across."

“You’ve got five seconds to tell me the truth about why you’re here, or I’m taking you in.” Nightwing warned, his escrima sticks now crackling with electricity.

“Come over here and try it, Daddy’s boy,” Jason goaded, pulling out his favorite kris.

Nightwing leapt and Red Hood was ready for him, but he never made it close. Starfire swooped in out of nowhere and grabbed him. He yelped in surprise, but she silenced him with a kiss on his open mouth.

“It is so nice to see you again, Richard.” She said happily, cuddling him close.

“Kory!” he cried when she had released his mouth, still carrying him bridal style, “What are you doing here?”

Roy had also appeared, sidling up next to Jason, “See, if I had done that, he would have punched me!”

“Shut it.” Jason growled.

“We are working together now.” Kory explained, ignoring Nightwing’s squirming to get down.

“What? You two, and…Roy?” Nightwing spluttered, noticing Roy’s entrance as well, “That has got to be the weirdest team up ever.”

“What do you mean?” Roy said casually, “Kory and I have a lot in common.”

He punctuated this with a wink, which Dick ignored.

“Perhaps. But we work well together, and they have become dear friends.” Kory replied, finally letting him down.

“A _lot_ in common.” Roy continued.

Dick continued to ignore him, but his cheeks were steadily getting red, “How did you even find each other?”

“Like you, for instance.” Roy smirked.

“Roy.” Jason warned, watching Dick’s hand clench into a fist as he refused to look over at Roy.

“I rescued Jason, and brought him to-“ Kory began, but Dick could hardly hear her from the ringing in his ears.

“Like fucking you, for instance.” Roy finished smugly.

Dick flew at him with impressive speed, but Kory was ready for him again, this time catching him around the waist with both arms.

“Roy, be silent.” She ordered with enough authority to make him look almost chastened.

“Okay, okay,” Dick grumbled, fruitlessly attempting to escape her hug-hold, “you can put me down now, I won’t do anything.”

She obliged and floated over to wear the other two were standing. Jason stepped up, looking to cut this reunion short.

“Look, if this lead turns out to be a dud we won’t be in town long.”

Dick stopped himself from saying _Good._ “What are you looking for?”

Jason turned to the other two, who said nothing. He supposed there was no reason not to tell him, “The Marrakech brothers are selling a huge amount of weapons. I figured if there was a buyer, they’d be here.”

Nightwing frowned at him, “It’s been quiet. It wouldn’t surprise me if that was because something big is about to go down. Batman was tracking an arms dealer earlier this week; maybe your cases are one in the same. You should ask him.”

Jason gave a hollow laugh, “Yeah, sure, I’ll do that Dickie-bird.”

“He’ll figure out you’re in town one way or another,” Nightwing replied simply, “might as well tell him yourself.”

“Why don’t you just tell him? And tell him and the rest of the bat-brigade to stay out of my way, while you’re at it.” Jason warned, “I didn’t come here for a fight, but if any of them want one I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

“We don’t mean to cause you any trouble, Nightwing,” Kory interrupted diplomatically, seeing the look on his face, “and we would be so grateful if you alerted us to any information about these Marrakech humans.”

Dick’s face softened, looking at her, “I will.”

He took a step closer, and pressed a finger to Jason’s chest, “But this is Gotham, and we’ve got rules. If anyone dies, I’ll be coming for you, Red Hood.”

“Ooooh.” Jason replied obnoxiously, stepping forward as well, not to be outdone. Nightwing didn’t retreat even though their bodies were inches apart. Jason looked down on Nightwing with a smirk, “I quiver in fear.”

Nightwing apparently didn’t have a response to that. They stared each other down for a minute more, Jason glad he had grown up taller; his predecessor forced to look up at him. But his hard stare was making Jason’s mouth go a bit dry, and he could feel his heart pound loudly in his chest. After a moment that was much too long, Nightwing ducked away; for a minute Jason though the man was going to kick him, but he just cartwheeled backward and flipped off the building like the acrobatic nerd he was.

“Well…that went well.” Jason said sardonically once Nightwing was a black and blue shadow, growing more faint in the distance. He forced himself to breathe deeply and willed the heat in his face to go down before his teammates noticed.

“He’s more of a tight ass than ever,” Roy thought for a minute, and then, with a salacious grin, “with more of a tighter ass than ever. Maybe I should…”

Jason snorted in disbelief, “Yeah, I wouldn't go there if I were you. He didn't look too happy to see you.”

“He was happier to see me than he was to see you,” Roy protested, “plus, you don’t know how it is…that’s just our foreplay.”

Jason couldn't hold back a laugh. He glanced at Kory, who was gazing off into the distance thoughtfully.

“He seemed distressed.” She said with concern.

“If he's in Gotham he’s probably working with Batman,” Jason explained, “and that’s about the most stressful thing anyone can do.”

“What’s our move?” Roy asked.

“Retreat,” Jason said definitively, “Nightwing’s off to tell his dear ol’Dad that I’m here. We don’t need a confrontation; we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile. Let’s regroup back at the hotel with what we’ve learned.

Which, as it happened, turned out to be pretty much nothing.

Not a whisper from the Narrows. Nothing from Amusement Mile. As Nightwing had said, things had been quiet. Too quiet for Gotham.

Kory and Roy were discussing next steps. But Jason was distracted. His meeting with Nightwing had pushed almost everything else out of his mind.

Dick had looked the same as always. His costume bore the same ridiculous fingerstripes it had the last time Jason had seen him. He was still short (well, compared to Jason at least); he was still bouncy and bendy.

It was his attitude that was different. Jason wasn't used to the hard, angry look on Dick’s face. They had only interacted for a minute or two back when Jason had first returned to Gotham as the Red Hood. But back when Jason was Robin, memories of his predecessor were of a laughing, lighthearted Nightwing, who flew through the air, and always made it look easy. Who was always surrounded by friends who loved him. Who always had time for a quick spar with Jason whenever he was at the manor (though he wasn't at the manor very much at all).

But even when he was away from the manor, Dick lingered in young Jason’s thoughts. His easy smile, his toned, trim body. The warmth of his skin when he pinned Jason to the mat. And it had happened; first slowly, then suddenly, all at once. His jealousy of Dick, and his anger at Dick had morphed into admiration and passion. And suddenly, he didn't mind so much when Dick called him ‘Little wing’ or ruffled his hair. 

Jason had always figured it was a just a small crush; adolescent hormones combined with the fact that, for what seemed the first time in his life, someone was treating him with kindness. And he knew Dick would never want him back. But that didn't stop him from scooting a bit closer when Dick sat next to him on a couch so that Jason could breathe in his fresh, warm scent a little better.

Jason’s stomach turned oddly at the thought that Dick would never call him ‘Little wing’ or ruffle his hair again. And, after knowing what Jason had tried to do to him, Batman, and the Replacement, he doubted that Dick would ever even look at him with kindness in his eyes again. And Dick smelled the same. And all of that made Jason’s chest ache with a pain and loneliness that he couldn't quite understand.


	5. Chapter 5

“Jason’s in town.” Dick announced his presence in the cave, dismounting his bike and pulling off his mask in one smooth gesture. Batman and Robin had been hunched over the Batcomputer, but they both turned around at the sound of his voice.

“Why?” Bruce asked, eyes narrowed.

Dick shrugged, “Apparently he’s part of a team with Arsenal and Starfire. First I had heard of it, but they’re chasing down an arms sale. Thought you might know something about that.”

“Todd should know better than to come to my city,” Damian snarled, sounding more like his father every day, “I’ll ship him to Arkham myself.”

“Yeah, about that,” Dick positioned himself in between Damian and the exit, “he seems a bit more on the level now. That is, he didn’t try to blow me up or threaten to kill you or the Joker.”

Bruce frowned at Dick’s easy dismissal of Jason’s crimes, “Do not be naive enough to trust him, Dick.”

Dick struggled not to roll his eyes, “I’m not saying we throw him a welcoming party, Bruce. I’m just saying we can probably feel safe not pursuing him. Roy and Kory are both veteran vigilantes, and they aren’t going to let him go off the rails. They’re…friends.” Something Dick still couldn’t quite wrap his head around. In their Titan days, Roy and Kory had never interacted that much; by the time Kory joined the team, Roy had been on his way out. And when they did interact, it was never that pleasant as far as Dick could remember.

He could, however, see how Jason and Roy would get along famously. They both had the unfortunate habit of blaming everything bad that happens to them on someone else, particularly their mentors. They were both reckless, they were both thrill seekers. They were loners; slow to trust, quick to act. They had an appreciation for high tech weaponry, and were more than willing to dole out violence when necessary. And when unnecessary.

And though Dick wasn’t thrilled about the idea of two of his exes and his estranged successor teaming up, he couldn’t help but feel grateful that Jason and Roy both weren’t alone any more. And he couldn’t think of anyone better to keep them together than Kory. Kory was one of the nicest, loving people Dick had ever known. It felt like a lifetime ago that they had been together, but Dick would always love her and he knew she would always love him as well. Kory had been there for him when he broke up his partnership with Bruce, when Jason had died, when he had transitioned from Robin into Nightwing. She was one of the few people who had seen him in all his permutations and had loved him and stood by his side anyway. She had helped make him into the man he was today, and Dick would forever be grateful to her for that.

He could only hope she would play a similar supportive role to Jason and Roy.

“Todd has friends?” Damian scathed, interrupting his thoughts, “Who would care to waste time with that reject crime-fighter?”

Dick’s lips quirked a bit at that, “You know, Damian, some people choose to befriend each other without judging crime-fighting abilities first.”

“-Tt-. How strange.” Damian returned to the computer and Dick redirected his attention to Bruce.

“So. Arms deal. Is there a fire to go with this smoke?”

Bruce stood and crossed his arms over his chest, “I had heard something about the Marrakech brothers looking to sell a couple thousand AK-47s, but that was weeks ago. I was off planet with the Justice League at the time and couldn’t address it. My guess is that the deal is long over, and the Marrakech brothers, if they have any sense, are long gone.”

“Why didn’t you call me in on this?” Dick demanded, “I could have filled in for you while you were gone. And now there are how many assault grade weapons on Gotham’s streets? Should make patrolling around here a hell of a lot more interesting!”

“You were too busy bouncing between cities!” Bruce snapped at him, “Tim was tracking them initially, but they fell off his radar when he had to contain another breakout from Arkham. I told him not to worry about it; those guns were Russian made and they had serial numbers. Following their path would be easy enough, in theory.”

“In theory?” Dick questioned.

“There’s no evidence the guns ever landed; in Gotham or anywhere. And there hasn’t been a whisper from the Marrakech brothers. It’s as if they all disappeared.”

Bruce walked up to Jason’s old Robin costume in the display case and touched it gently, “I don’t know what Jason’s following that brought him to Gotham on this case, but if he has new information, we may need it. But I don’t think I should approach him. That did not go so well last time.”

Dick knew Bruce was suggesting that he be the one to talk to Jason. But he wondered why Bruce thought that situation would be any less volatile with himself instead of Bruce. He vaguely remembered Jason firing a bunch of sentry guns at him and trying to blow him up on a ship.

Either way, he could keep an eye on the Outlaws and make sure they didn’t live up to their name too much, “I’ll keep an eye on Jason, find out what he knows.”

Bruce nodded his head, probably knowing Dick would agree.

Damian suddenly reappeared, “I should partner with Grayson, Father. Todd is too dangerous for him to handle alone.”

Dick snickered and ruffled Damian’s hair, “Aww…you worried about me, Dami?”

Damian smacked his hand away, “Don’t be childish, Grayson. I just know that you have a habit of getting in over your head.”

“I’ll handle this one alone, Damian,” Dick said firmly, remembering with a squick that Jason had slept with Talia. That probably wouldn’t go over so well with Damian, “it’s Batman and Robin, not Nightwing and Robin, remember?”

He almost regretted saying it after seeing Damian’s face fall a bit, but he forced himself to turn away and made to leave the cave.

“Dick?” Bruce called.

Dick, helmet it hand, and having mounted the bike, turned his head a little, “Yeah?”

“Remember Jason is…” Bruce seemed to struggle within himself for a minute, “…Jason.”

Dick couldn't keep himself from laughing. He couldn't have said it better himself. He revved his bike, nodded at Bruce, and put and his helmet, zooming away.


	6. Chapter 6

Jason was distracted the next morning, so much so that he burned the pancakes and had to listed to Roy whine about it for a solid hour. The fact was that they were no longer further along from a simple sweep, so a deeper dive would have to be necessary. Jason was going to contact the militia; his former soldiers when he had returned to Gotham as the Red Hood as crime lord extraordinaire. 

The militia weren’t bad guys. Jason had chosen them for this very reason. Most of them were guys who had fallen on hard times, ending up doing something that made them do hard time, and had come out of prison with no options, but to reverting to what they knew best.

Jason could relate. His own father had been in and out of prison when he was a kid, until he had died there. Jason couldn’t remember much about the man; he didn't remember much of anything about his childhood before he was on the streets. He did remember his father hitting him and his mom when he was around. He found out later that his father was a drug dealer who had become addicted to his own stuff. His mother had struggled with addiction as well. Jason didn’t hold it against either of them; he had lived too much of his life hating his father and being disappointed with his mother. He hadn’t felt bad when he sold drugs; people stupid enough to take them deserved to get addicted. They ruined their own lives, and Jason was happy to squeeze them for money. They were weak. Meeting Roy had changed all of that.

Roy taught him about the power of addiction. When Jason was Robin, Roy had been a Teen Titan with Nightwing; Jason had only ever seen him from afar. He was a cool guy, always had an attractive guy/girl on his arm, and he constantly held his own against people with abilities he could only dream of. He also was a bit of a rebel; always with a sharp word for his mentor (something Jason could certainly relate to). 

Jason never witnessed Roy’s addiction; he had never seen Roy on heroin, or after a few drinks. When Jason encountered Roy again, it was a spur of the moment rescue he had executed with Kory, someone he had only met several days prior. But they instantly clicked as friends. 

They had so much in common. The absent parents, and the adoption by an only quasi-interested party. The feeling of being unappreciated and unloved by their mentors. Never quite meeting expectations. They both loved fast cars and they both were willing to get greased up to repair their own cars/bikes. They both had struggled with anger issues and were prone to violence when provoked. They had never felt like the true “heroes” the way that Dick Grayson and the other squeaky clean Teen Titans had. 

Roy helped Jason to understand that addiction took hold and controlled people. It made them into something ugly. Most addicts were people who were in pain, but couldn't reach out for support.

“It’s hard to explain,” Roy had told him, “But it’s almost like you’re a completely different person when you’re on it. I’ve done things you couldn’t imagine. I stole…from everyone. My friends, Ollie, Dinah. I hit people. I hurt people. I scared off all my friends. They were so desperate to help me, and I spat in their faces. Eventually, they gave up on me. Well, most of them did.”

“Did you hate them for it?”

Roy chucked, “I didn't blame them. I would've give up on me as well.”

Jason crossed his arms and scoffed, “Are you serious? They were your best friends. They abandoned you. How could that not make you angry?”

“What were they supposed to do?” Roy countered, “They’d send me to rehab; I couldn’t make it stick. They wanted to help me; I didn't want to listen to them. They had their own problems, their own lives to live.”

“If they cared, they wouldn’t have given up,” Jason grumbled, “The people who love you should never give up on you.”

Roy gave him a sad smile, “What choice did they have? I had given up on myself.”

“You should hate them. If I were you, I’d hate them.”

Roy sighed, “I hated them, for a while. I hated them. I hated Ollie. I hated Dinah. I hated Dick. But it was all a distraction, a way my mind could keep me from the truth.”

“Which was?”

“That I hated myself,” Roy said simply, “I ruined my own life, Jason. I had destroyed everything good in it. And I had no one to blame but myself. And I couldn't take it! So I told myself it was everyone else’s fault. And that felt good for a while. But my therapy in rehab taught me a lesson about responsibility. I drank. I stuck myself with the needle. Nobody made me do it. I turned on my friends, I let everyone down. It was all my responsibility, and mine alone. The illness took control over me, but I had been the catalyst. In theory, fixing things would be easy. I just had to decide to do it.”

Jason smirked, “Was it easy?”

“Hell, no! It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life! I think about heroin all the time. I miss the rush. I miss the feeling of freedom. It burns me from the inside out.”

“Are we done with this story yet?” Jason questioned, “Can you just tell me your happily-ever-after bullshit?”

Roy laughed, “This is the story, Jaybird. It’s a work in progress. Every day I get a little further away from that person I was, but I’m still working to make things right. Maybe, one day, I will. I hope so.”

But Roy’s addictions had certainly taken casualties. He still didn't speak with any of the original Titans, all of whom had been his closest friends, and Jason knew that it hurt him. Wally had been one of the first to drop off, and when Roy had called him, fresh from his successful stint in rehab, Wally had never gotten back to him. Donna had acknowledged his note, and told him she was happy they could be friends again. But they had never really been friends. They had been together, then apart, then hooked up a bit, then Roy had lashed out and she had backed off permanently. So as kind as her words were, Roy didn't approach her again.

Garth had clapped him on the back and told him how proud he was of him. But Garth was never really on the surface anymore, going full-time Atlantis hero, so Roy never heard from him.

And then there was Dick; as Roy told it, he had made it clear he hadn’t wanted to see or speak to Roy again, and Roy had respected his wishes. He owed Dick that much.

Roy was understanding of their reactions; Jason was less so. As far as he was concerned, they all had validated Jason’s original opinion of them; that they were a bunch of pretentious, prissy false friends who would step back when things got ugly. Their friendship had been a shallow facade that they had relied on when they were kids, but that had died out when the going got tough. 

Jason had told Roy about his death. His resurrection and training by the al Ghuls. He told him about his renegade crime lord gig in Gotham, and about trying to kill the Joker, Batman, Nightwing, and the Replacement. Roy had stayed silent during his story, withholding judgment to the end. 

“So?”

“So what?”

“Aren’t you going haul me into the station, hero?” Jason asked snidely, “I’m no Dick Grayson. I’ve killed. Over and over again. And you know what? I don’t feel bad about it! Those people made their choices. They chose to rape, and kill, and prey on the most vulnerable. So fuck them. They deserved it.”

“Jay,” Roy gave him a look, “I’m in no place to judge you. I’ve done some shitty things too. So has Kory! None of us are heroes.”

“Yeah, but I’m more not-hero than you guys are.” Jason grumbled in response. A sad look crossed over his face before he could hide it, “I just wish…”

“What?”

Jason’s face darkened again, “They replaced me. Like I was nothing. Did I really mean nothing to Bruce?” And then, more quietly, “To Dick?”

“Jason, you came back years after your death. You didn’t see them at the time. You don’t know how long they grieved. You don’t know how it hurt them.”

“And you do?” Jason sneered.

“Kory does.” Roy replied simply.

Jason had never asked Kory about it. In many ways he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer to his question. He had spent so much time and energy into being angry at the Bat-clan, it had become an important part of his identity as the Red Hood. 

He also knew that, whatever Bruce and Dick had felt at his death, it largely no longer mattered. Jason had killed. In Bruce’s eyes, that made him irredeemable. There was no going back.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day Jason was feeling restless and angry. He had taken a casual walk and found himself near the Diamond District, Gotham’s ritzy, Wall Street-esque area. Jason had always hated the Diamond District; he’d sat on a corner with a cup for coins a couple of times as a kid. He had never felt so invisible anywhere in the city as in the Diamond District. Jason was accustomed to being ignored; people hated panhandlers. But he was a kid, and most people in Amusement Mile, the Bowery, and even downtown Gotham would throw some change his way. Some would stop and talk with him, others would pop into a restaurant and grab him a meal. More people than he could count offered to call social services for him (not that he ever took them up on in).

But the Diamond District was different; people carelessly strolled by a homeless kid wearing more money on their backs than Jason had ever seen in his life. It infuriated him, to this day. How is it possible that ordinary, working class folks could always spare a dollar or twenty for him, but the city’s richest people wouldn’t even look at him?

These people, who spent more on a cup of coffee than Jason could spend on a week’s worth of meals. And they wouldn’t look at him. They’d just try and subtly flag down a cop, forcing Jason to flee from his corner or risk arrest.

No matter how long he lived (or how many times!) he would never feel comfortable in the Diamond District. 

So he was in a pretty bad mood when he stopped to eat. But there was something comforting about the shitty vinyl seating and greasy food of the shit diner they had eaten at last night, so that was where Jason found himself once more.

He was just about to stuff his face with a cheeseburger, when someone slid in the booth across from him.

It was Dick Grayson. Just his luck.

“Stalking me now?”

“I just followed the sound of loose bullets and unresolved teenage angst.” Dick replied obnoxiously.

Jason glared at him.

“I thought we could talk,” Dick said nervously, fiddling with his fingers, “not as Nightwing and Red Hood, but as Dick Grayson and Jason Todd.”

“Jason Todd’s out in Gotham Cemetery,” Jason replied, taking a bite of his sandwich and chewing it obnoxiously, “you’d know that, if you’d ever actually been there.”

“I have been there, asshole,” Dick snapped at him, “you’d know _that,_ if you weren't so busy feeling sorry for yourself all the damn time.”

“Get out of here, Dick,” Jason replied, “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Good,” Dick crossed his arms, refusing to budge, “maybe you can listen, for once.”

Jason was torn. On the one hand, he wasn’t in the mood to listen to a lecture by uppity Dick Grayson. Dick had no right to take the higher ground, and Jason did not appreciate the way Dick talked to him as if he knew him. Dick didn’t know him; he’d never made the effort to get to know him as a kid, and everything he knew about Jason now he’d been told by his douchebag Bat-dad. 

Still, a cheeseburger was a terrible thing to waste, and he was sure a dramatic exit would be wasted as well; if Dick was determined enough, he’d follow Jason everywhere, and Jason wasn’t fast enough to shake him. He never had been.

So Jason made an ironic _go ahead_ gesture, and continued eating his burger.

“I’m still not totally sure why you’re here; what you hope to accomplish, that it,” Dick began, “but I did some digging on your team. You guys have made a real difference.”

Jason was in physical pain trying to keep from rolling his eyes at Dick’s pathetic attempts to offer Jason his approval. What was he, 15?

“Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions when you came back.” Dick continued, pausing for a minute, “I’m sorry if I acted-“

“Like an uppity little bitch?” Jason supplied casually.

Dick’s glare was back in full force, “You did try and kill me the last time we met, Jason. I think that earns me a little warranted suspicion.”

Fair enough. But Jason wasn’t going to let him know that, “Don’t feel bad. I would’ve regretted it, Dickie-bird.”

Dick’s lips quirked, but he held his frown, “What I’m saying is, I’m glad you’ve found friends. I’m glad you’re not alone anymore, that you have a purpose beyond revenge now.”

“Revenge is still on the agenda, Goldie,” Jason smirked, “just being sidelined for a while. I’m going to kill the Joker, and there ain’t nothing that you, or your bat-fam can do about it.”

Dick sighed, looking defeated. Strangely, Jason felt the urge to reach out and comfort him. Damn his stupid nostalgic feelings. Nobody ever liked seeing a sad Dick Grayson. 

He pushed his basket of fries at Dick, “Here, have some. I’m sure the last thing you ate was a fucking lollipop or something.”

Dick burst into laughter at that, and Jason willed his cheeks not to flush. He took a fry and scrutinized it closely.

“What did you put on this?” He asked.

“Honey.” Jason replied, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to put on fries.

Dick dropped it like it was on fire, “Ew!”

Jason stared at him in disbelief, “Seriously? This coming from you, sugar queen?”

Dick was now digging through the basket, looking for an untainted fry, “Why would you ruin a perfectly good fry…?” He mumbled to himself.

Jason blinked, and opened another packet of honey, ready to drench the other fries. Dick snatched the basket out of his reach, “No! I won’t let you commit snack-icide!”

Jason snorted in spite of himself at the idiot, “So. What’d you really come here for, other than to hoard my food?”

Dick looked up at him thoughtfully, as though he was trying to remember, “I have a lead on your case to talk to you about.”

Jason perked up with interest, “Really? Well, Roy’s meeting me, he should be here in like 10 minutes…”

“Roy’s coming?” Dick stood from the seat, “Then I’ll find you later.”

“What?” Dick was giving him whiplash, “Hang on! What happened between you two, anyway?”

Dick’s face fell noticeably, but his frown was resolute, “Nothing worth talking about.”

Dick walked out of the restaurant in a hurry, only to nearly run headlong into the exact person he’d been trying to avoid.

“Dick!” Roy nearly shouted in surprise, “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Dick couldn't ignore him, not when he was standing right here in front of him, green eyes staring earnestly at his face, begging to be acknowledged, “I wanted to talk to Jason. To clear the air.”

Roy gave him an easy smile, “Ah. Good.”

Dick looked at Roy closely for the first time in what felt like a hundred years. He looked so much better than the last time Dick had seen him. His eyes were focused and clear, and they were as green as they’d ever been. His hair was clean, and cut, and red like fire. The dark circles under his eyes had gone bright again, and he stood, tall and strong and sure, with all the confidence that Dick had fallen in love with.

Dick felt like a kid again, standing here in front of him. Roy had always made him feel like a kid. Roy, who had always been older, and cooler, who broke all the rules. Roy, whom everyone had wanted as a best friend, who chose _him._

Roy had given him his first drink, given him his first smoke. Roy was the person who took him to his first concert, his first bar, his first rager. Roy was the first person he’d kissed, first person for a whole slew of other things as well.

Roy had always been able to talk him into anything.

_“It’ll be fun! You’re not chicken, are you?”_

That was all it took. A promise of fun and a warning that if he refused, Dick would be chicken. Dick Grayson had swung from a trapeze one hundred feet in the air before his eighth birthday. 

He was not a chicken.

But the truth beyond any of that was that Dick had just liked being around Roy, whatever they were doing. Roy was many things he was not; things he couldn’t be. Roy flouted the rules carelessly, and always behaved like he didn’t give a shit about what his guardian thought. Dick could be rebellious, but he always was concerned with what Bruce thought of him. He thought so highly of Bruce, and couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him. So, he went along with Roy for the adventures, but he always stopped short of causing real trouble. Roy was different. He crossed every boundary, and never apologized for it. That made him exciting, and dangerous, and the perfect best friend for Dick.

“It’s…uh…it’s really good to see you again, Dick,” Roy continued hesitantly against Dick’s silence, “I missed you. A lot.”

“Don’t.” Dick cut him off mercilessly, “Just don’t, Roy.”

Roy swallowed, looking pained, and nodded.

Dick walked past him, only to hesitate and look back, “I’m…I’m glad you’re alright.” He said it so quietly Roy almost missed it.

“Dick, do you ever think we could-“

“No.” Dick snapped and he was off. Roy was tempted to chase him, but knew it was no use. He sighed and made his way into the diner.

Jason was face deep in his cheeseburger, grunting in acknowledgement when Roy sat down.

“Hey Jaybird,” Roy greeted him, “What’s happening?”

Jason swallowed his mouthful, “Dick has a lead on our case; I’m meeting him later to talk about it.”

“Weren’t you just meeting him now?” Roy asked, confused.

“Um, well he was gonna tell me now…but I told him you were coming, and, uh-“

“He took off. Right.” Roy threw himself back into his seat, “That guy sure can hold a grudge.”

“To be honest, I’m impressed,” Jason grinned obnoxiously, “I didn't think the Golden Boy could hold only anger for longer than five minutes. That is, unless he was ordered to by Batman.”

Roy chucked, “Well, that’s me, always making the impossible happen.”

“Where’s Kory, anyway?” Jason demanded.

“Who knows? She likes to do her own thing sometimes. With friends like us, who could blame her?”

They laughed together, in spite of themselves.


	8. Chapter 8

As it turned out, Kory had been up to quite a lot. Namely, getting them an apartment and base of operations.

“Donna had a place here in Gotham for when we had missions here,” Kory said serenely, “She has been living back in Themyscira these days, and she told me I was welcome to stay there as long as I liked."

Jason felt uncomfortable about the implication that they’d be there any longer than a week, but considering they had no leads, it was probably a good plan.

“Well, thanks Kory. It’s always easier having a home base that isn’t a super depressing motel room.”

Kory smiled at him indulgently.

“Oh, Kory,” Roy called annoyingly, “guess what? Jason’s got a date with Dick Grayson tonight.”

Jason glared at him and opened his mouth to disagree, but Kory was already flying right into his face.

“Oh, how wonderful, Jason!” she said sincerely, enveloping him in her arms, “Treat him well.”

Jason grunted unhappily, and tried to wriggle away, “It is NOT a date. Roy is being an asshole.”

Kory let go of him, disappointed, “Oh.”

“I’m just meeting him later. He has a lead on our case. Hopefully, one that’s good enough to wrap us this case quickly and get us out of this shitty town.”

Kory looked at him with a glimmer in her eye anyway. Jason refused to acknowledge it, but felt his face warming up a bit.

“So, what should we do, while you’re on your ‘not date’?” Roy asked sardonically.

Jason ignored him.

“We should stay in,” Kory answered, “we attract too much attention here. Let Jason go, we can come in as backup as necessary.”

“That’s a good idea,” Jason agreed.

He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the counter and walked out the door.

The sun was setting; it’d be dark soon and he’d have to meet Nightwing. He took a drag; this was going to be a long night.

Jason really hated to dwell on the past, but whenever he smoked it left him with a wandering mind.

_“Alfred, when is Bruce going to make me Robin?” Jason demanded of the older man, who pressed an ice pack to his bruised face._

_Jason was seated on the medical table in the cave after a hard training session; Bruce was suiting up and preparing to go our without him, again._

_“I would not be in such a rush to endanger yourself, young sir.” Alfred said simply._

_“How long did it take before he let-“ Jason shot a furtive look at Bruce, and whispered, “the other Robin join him?”_

_Alfred sighed, “I do wish you wouldn’t compare yourself with him, Master Jason.”_

_“That’s all Bruce ever does!” Jason snapped, “Robin did this, Robin is that, Robin does it this way, blah, blah, blah.”_

_“You two are very different. Perhaps Master Bruce merely is concerned for your safety; it is important that criminals do not note the differences between the first Robin and yourself.”_

_Jason frowned, “Whatever. The first guy must have been good, but I’m going to be better. Bruce seems to hate him now anyway. Never even says his name.”_

_Alfred paused, looking so pained that Jason instantly regretted speaking. He was still pretty new around here, and the old man had been nothing but kind to him._

_“Alfred, I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s not your fault, my dear boy. It’s been difficult, since Master Bruce lost contact with…him. I miss him…so very much.” Alfred seemed to steady himself, “But, that’s why it’s good to have you, Jason. Master Bruce is too much on his own; sometimes I am as well.”_

_Jason smiled at him, and then, curiously, “Hey, Alfred?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“What’s…his name? The first Robin?”_

_Alfred smiled, “His name is Richard. But we call him-“_

_“Dick!” Bruce called out, surprised, “What are you doing here?”_

_Jason turned and saw who was possibly the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. He was dressed in a bright blue suit, without a mask. He was lean and muscular, and moved like a dancer. He had dark, feathery hair, and the bluest eyes Jason had ever seen._

_“Nice to see you too,” Dick replied coldly, “Don’t worry; I’m not staying long. I came to warn you about Deathstroke. He’s got a contract in Gotham.”_

_“Did you come all the way here without a mask?” Bruce interrupted him, “Are you trying to give away your identity?”_

_Dick laughed humorlessly, “No, Bruce, I am not a complete idiot. I just took it off before I came in the cave. But, as always, thanks for the vote of confidence.”_

_“Well, it’s hard to know what you wouldn't do for attention,” Bruce growled back, “considering all the flashy work you and your friends are doing to make the paper every day.”_

_“Nobody asked you to keep tabs on me,” Dick fired back, “And I don’t operate like you do anymore. I don’t want people to be afraid of me.”_

_Alfred sighed, and Jason blinked, realizing with embarrassment that he’d been staring at this ‘Dick’ since he’d arrived. Alfred moved away, presumably to intervene in what was sure to be another fight._

_“Fear has nothing to do with it, Dick. It’s about not making yourself any more of a target—“  
_

_“I didn’t come here for a lecture, Bruce.” Dick snapped_

_“Master Dick, we are all very happy to see you,” Alfred cut in smoothly, “would you care to come upstairs for a cup of tea?”_

_Dick’s eyes softened when they landed on Alfred, but hardened again almost immediately when they hit Jason, “Who’s this?”_

_Jason stepped forward, eager not to embarrass himself in front of his good looking predecessor, “I’m Jason Todd. New Robin.”_

_Jason knew instantly, from the slight wince from Bruce, that this was the absolute wrong thing to say. Bruce rarely let anything show on his face._

_Dick’s eyes burned, and Jason flushed, “New Robin?”_

_Jason swallowed, and took a step back without realizing it._

_Dick turned back to Bruce, his face twisted with rage, “So that’s it? You just…you just replace me?”_

_He sounded more upset than angry, and Jason had to fight the urge to reach out and comfort him. He couldn't explain why, but he just felt that this was a person who should never be sad._

_“Dick, it isn’t like that.” Bruce said calmly, and Jason perked up in interest. He had never heard Bruce speak to someone else so gently, and with such care._

_Bruce reached out for him. But Dick’s temper had returned, and he shoved Bruce’s hand away before it could make contact, “I can’t believe you! You just up and replace me?! How dare you?! You…you trained me, made me your partner, kick me out, and then, just…just replace me?! You don’t even care? I thought you were…I thought we were-”_

_The anger died on Dick’s face, and was replaced with something that could only be described as anguish. He walked away, but paused at the cave’s exit, “Robin was_ my mother’s _name for_ me. _” He looked so close to tears as he said it that Jason’s heart seized up in sympathy, “Damn it, Bruce. You knew how much that meant to me.”_

_And then he was gone. And Alfred was glaring at Bruce, and Bruce was ignoring him._

_Alfred shot a spare glance at Jason, “Master Jason, perhaps it is time for you to be off to bed. You’ll convalesce more quickly with proper rest.”_

_Jason chose not to point out that going to sleep at 9:00 pm would do little for his bruised jaw, and made his way up the stairs. He climbed his way to the top of the stairs before pausing to listen in._

_“Sir, if I may be so bold-“_

_“Like I could stop you.” Bruce grumbled._

_“Indeed. Perhaps if you had made an effort to reach out to Master Dick, before beginning to train…”_

_“I kept meaning to…but he makes it so difficult. Ever since he joined that junior JLA group he’s become so stubborn, and impossible to reason with!”_

_“The mind fairly boggles as to where he inherited such traits.” Alfred said dryly._

_“I never should have let him go off with Speedy and the rest of those delinquents in the first place…” Bruce mumbled to himself._

_“Forgive me, sir, but the responsibility of fixing your relationship with Master Dick lies with you, and you alone. It was you, after all, who pushed him away in the first place.”_

_“I was trying to protect him!” Bruce snapped, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration, “I fired him as Robin, but I never meant for him to leave!”_

_Jason couldn’t help himself. He took a few steps back down the stairs to see for himself. Bruce was back in his computer chair, a frown on his face, his arms crossed. Jason had never seen him show so much emotion in one night._

_“I know,” Alfred said softly, and he placed a gentle hand on Bruce’s shoulder._

_“I didn’t want to see him hurt. I didn’t want to lose him, like I lost them. When he left, I assumed he’d come back.” Bruce continued quietly._

_“Master Bruce, I have watched you raise that boy as your own for many years. Goodness knows you two fight as only a father and son do. But you must understand something; when you took away Master Dick’s role as Robin, you neglected to reassure him of his place at the manor, and in your family. He ran away, as upset children often do, and you should have responded as parents do; by bringing him home.”_

_“He had the Titans. He has his…boyfriend.” Bruce practically spat the word and Jason wondered who Dick had gotten involved with the warrant such a reaction, “I just thought he didn’t need me anymore.”_

_Alfred chuckled quietly, “He will always need you, sir. Though never as desperately as you will always need him.”_

_Jason finally turned away and left the cave, but his mind was racing with questions. And he tried to ignore the creeping jealousy. Apparently Bruce didn’t hate the first Robin much at all…_

Jason stubbed out his cigarette, and cracked his neck. He had to go choose his weapons for the night. Should he switch out his guns for a couple knives to appease the Golden Boy? He shook his head, annoyed by the thought. Since when did he give a shit about what the Bat brood thought of him and his methods? But the image of Dick in his bright blue and yellow costume and his fiery eyes rested in Jason’s mind all the same.


	9. Chapter 9

Nightwing landed silently behind him, but Red Hood still knew he was there. He was wearing his vigilante best, armed to the nines with his favorite Glocks and his signature red helmet hide his face from view. Nightwing looked him directly in the eyes anyway.

“What’ve you got for me?” Jason asked casually.

“Marrakech. I think I know where they are. There’s a rumor about a big auction tonight, down by the docks. It’s run by a group called the Order. They pride themselves on ‘exquisite, hard to find items.” Dick explained with exaggerated air-quotes, “Sounds to me like a good a place as any to sell a bunch of weapons.”

Jason snorted in disbelief, “Are you serious, Goldie? What’s the motivation for going to an auction? Is there really a shortage of big players willing to buy arms in Gotham?”

“All the so-called big players will be there,” Nightwing argued bluntly, “or their proxies, if they aren’t there in person.”

Jason felt his temper rising already, “Of course they won’t be there in person. You don’t know anything about organized crime, do you?”

“I’ve been doing this longer than you have,” Dick snapped, “in fact, I was doing it back when you were stealing hubcaps, so I think I know what I’m talking about here.”

“Well, _I_ grew up in Gotham. You’re not even from here,” Jason countered with a sneer, “And as I’ve been both a vigilante _and_ a crime boss, I think that _I_ understand them a hell of a lot better than you do!”

“Right. You’re a crime lord. I almost forgot,” Dick grumbled, “so, in your _professional_ opinion, where does one start the bidding on twelve hundred Russian made assault weapons?”

“Look, smartass. I’ll play detective with you and go down to the docks to investigate, if you want. On the condition that when I’m right (and I _will_ be) and there’s nothing there, we do things my way. Deal?”

Nightwing narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly.

“Good. Now let’s fly.”

Dick took off, vaulting off the edge of the rooftop impressively, and landing on the next one. Jason free jumped the gap, not far behind him. The two took turns leading and following in other, never speaking, averting their eyes as the sailed across the rooftops.

When they reached their destination, they set up a stakeout on the roof across from the warehouse where the supposed auction was meant to take place. Jason checked his watch. According to Dick, the auction was poised to start at 3 o’clock. It was thirty minutes after midnight. Great.

“And now we wait.” Dick crossed his legs.

“And now we wait.” Jason agreed.

They looked at each other. Then away. Then back at each other. 

Jason pulled off his helmet. If they were going to be sitting here a while, he might as well be comfortable.

Dick smirked, not looking at him.

“What?” Jason demanded.

Dick looked up at him, “Remember that time I tried to teach you how to dance at your first Wayne gala?”

Jason blinked at him, but allowed himself a small smile, “Yeah.”

Dick giggled childishly, “You stepped on my feet all night. And you kept saying it was only because I wouldn’t let you lead."

Jason smirked, “I just didn’t want any lessons from you. Just another reminder of how much better you were at everything than me.”

Dick’s face fell, and Jason clenched his fist in regret for spoiling the mood.

“I could dance to _some_ songs.” Jason attempted to recover.

Dick smiled, “Like which ones?”

“The ones where you just need to head bang and jump around. I was always good at that.” Jason tossed his head around to demonstrate, “Those were the songs they played at parties.”

“You went to parties?” Dick teased, “You rebel. How’d you sneak out past B?"

“I know a thing or two,” Jason replied with a grin, swallowing a bit when he realized how much that sounded like flirting, “but don’t play all innocent, Dickie-bird. Roy told me how much you liked to shake it to _Fat bottomed girls_ at his ragers.”

Dick collapsed with laughter, “He did not say that! He is such a liar! He played that damn song every time we hung out, just to be an ass!”

“Hmm, interesting choice,” Jason made a faux-confused expression, “but why that song…? Ah, never mind. I think I can see how it fits you. In the last nationwide poll, Nightwing _was_ voted ‘Superhero You’d Most Like to Spank,’ and that was with some pretty tough competition."

“Oh my god, no! Please tell me you’re joking,” Dick was hiding his face in his hands, still breathless with laughter, “that can _not_ be a thing.”

“Of course it’s a thing,” Jason snickered, “but I think Roy and Kory juiced your numbers significantly. The day of voting, they both practically ignored me. They were both glued to their phone, texting in votes for you.”

Dick held his stomach while he caught his breath, “God. I can't believe those two ended up being friends. Nice to know they’re so loyal after all this time.”

“You’ve always inspired loyalty, I guess.” Jason said, and Dick was smiling at him again and Jason had to look away. He wants to ask again what happened between Dick and Roy, but can’t bring himself to bring up a heavy topic, especially considering how sure he is that Dick will brush him off.

“I felt weird about the three of you hanging out together at first,” Dick said, looking out into the distance, “but now, I…I don’t know. I’m glad you’re all together. I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Jason didn’t look at him, “Me too.”

He wanted to tell Dick more. He wanted to tell him he’d calmed down a bit. That while he was still angry, and while he still wanted to kill the Joker, he wasn’t a threat to them anymore. Having friends had tempered his bitterness and anger toward the Bats. Somewhat.

But why did he have an urge to tell Dick anything? He shouldn't be concerned with what Dick thought of him. Dick was just another prissy disciple of the Bat; besides, it wasn’t like he had ever made much time for Jason. Yet Jason found himself wanting Dick to be happy with him…to smile at him…to…

“We’ve got company!” Nightwing said abruptly, laying flat on the roof and peering over the edge.

Jason crept up next to him, “No way, it’s way too early.”

But a huge truck had just pulled it. Jason squinted at it; no logo, no discernible symbols or colors…it was just a plain white truck, the license plate too far away to read.

“Could be the merchandise?” Dick suggested.

“That’d be a stupid way to transport a shit-load of guns” Jason replied blandly. Sensing Dick’s glare, he continued, “It’s too big. Would make a hell of a lot more sense to load them up in a bunch of vans. Attracts less attention. A truck that size is a lot easier to trace.”

The truck had stopped, and the drivers exited. Jason could tell immediately they were just a couple of armed lackey. But neither of them moved to unload. Jason frowned; something was up.

Suddenly, a hoard of black minivans drove through. None of them had lights on, and they parked on either side of the truck; Jason counted eight in all. And then, predictably, a whole bunch of beefy men armed with AK-47s exited the vans. Jason’s heart sank as he tried to figure out how many had been in each van; these guys were packing way too much firepower for a direct attack. There’d be no way he and Nightwing could fight their way out of these guys. It would have to be a surveillance-only night.

The men were clad in all black and, strangely, wearing gas masks. They surrounded the back of the truck, and two men stepped forward to release the catch and open the back doors. 

Jason could hardly see anything in the darkness, but he heard Dick’s sharp intake of breath all the same.

“ _People.”_ Nightwing whispered.

People indeed. Men, women, children. Stumbling out of the truck, tripping over their bound feet. Clearly they had been heavily drugged. The soldiers grabbed them, one by one, and began marching them into the warehouse.

“This is a human-trafficking ring,” Dick hissed in his ear, as though Jason couldn’t figure that out for himself, “what the hell? How could you be so wrong?”

Jason chose to ignore that, instead focusing on counting how many people were on the truck. This was almost certainly going to get ugly. He drew his piece, more for comfort than anything else.

“What are you doing?” Dick whisper-yelled at him, looking at the gun in alarm.

“58,” Jason whispered back, “I counted 58 bodies. Hostages. Probably close to the same amount of gunman. We’re way outnumbered; we should have brought backup.”

“I’ll call Batman.” Dick suggested predictably.

“No!” Jason hissed, “This is my operation.”

“Batman will know what we’re dealing with,” Dick countered angrily, “I’m not risking those people’s lives just because you’re too insecure to ask for help.”

Dick pulled out a small device. Jason snatched it from his hand and threw it off the roof.

“You _colossal fucking asshole!”_ Dick practically whisper-screamed at him. In another situation, Jason would have really enjoyed at the appalled look on his face.

He pressed the communicator in his ear, “Arsenal, Starfire: we need backup. We’re down by the docks, and have stumbled across something huge. Hurry, but do not draw attention to yourselves.”

Dick was still glaring at him.

Jason ignored him and put his helmet back on, “We should stick to recon; try and figure out what exactly is going on. Even with Arsenal and Starfire, I don’t like our odds against this crew.”

“You think?” Dick asked sarcastically, “If this is an auction, then we’re in deep shit. A full frontal assault would be suicide, but if we let them all walk away, then who knows if we’ll find them again. Underground shit like this tends to be underground for a reason, you know!”

Jason’s throat tightened uncomfortably at the thought. Nightwing was right; this was a downright hellish situation. But Jason had gotten out of worse.

“If it comes to it, we focus on taking out the militia. One of them talks, and we can track down Marrakech. We can tag the buyers and track them down later.”

The air felt suddenly hot; Starfire had arrived. She landed quietly on the roof.

  
“Where’s Roy?” Jason demanded.

“Right here.” Came a grumbling voice from behind them. Roy pulled himself up on the roof, “What are we dealing with?”

Jason filled them on what he saw, and began to think through a plan, “We have to see what’s going on in that warehouse when the bidders arrive.”

“There aren’t any windows that I saw,” Starfire replied, Only entrances are in the front and the back of the building.”

“There’s probably an entrance on the roof,” Arsenal replied, “or a vent shaft, or something.”

Jason looked over at it; he couldn't make out a door anywhere, but he could see a huge opening covered by a vent, “You’re right, Arsenal. I can see it.”

“We can’t all go in; we’d be like sitting ducks in there,” Arsenal grumbled. “best bet is to lower someone down by a line.” He looked over at Nightwing.

Nightwing rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

Jason looked between them, confused.

“We’ve pulled this stunt before, Titans-era,” Arsenal explained, “I’ll lower Nightwing down the ventilation shaft, and he can listen in. We’ll route a feed from his lenses to my gauntlet. I can project the video and we can all see what he sees without being crammed into a vent. When we understand the layout of the building, and what’s going down, we can plan our attack.”

Jason looked toward Kory, who nodded. He had a feeling she was feeling just as nervous about this plan as she was. Jason felt uncomfortable about dangling Dick over the pit of lions, but it seemed to be the best plan they had.

“Okay,” Jason declared, “let’s do it.”


End file.
